Change of Mind
by Mrs.GingerHinkley
Summary: A high IQ doesn't guarantee common sense. Practicality doesn't mean a heart can't break. He needs Ginger. The Professor just wished he had realized all this sooner.


Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the island.

**Change of Mind**

He was living through a nightmare. A terrible, real nightmare that he couldn't escape as much as he wanted to, needed to. The worst part was that it was all his fault. Stupid egotistic ways that prevented him to admitting to his short comings had caused this heartbreak. Choices that couldn't be undone, dreams and wishes that weren't enough. And the pain, the agonizing pain he felt every time he heard her name. No escape… no escape.

The Professor wiped his brow and tried to concentrate on his work. There was no point thinking of the past, it was over, all over. Of course, certain things could not be avoided. The island was, after all, rather small. He was trying to fix the peddle-powered fan they had used so much during this excessive heat-wave. Bending over to tie the palm fronds together, he heard someone enter his hut and felt eyes on the back of his neck. Without turning to look, the Professor knew who it was. The voice that he dreaded and yet desperately needed to hear affirmed his assumption.

"Hello Professor, what are you working on?" Ginger asked in a voice that was first conceived to be flirtatious but was in truth cruel and vindictive.

The Professor breathed in an out once before turning to answer her, "Just the fan that Gilligan broke."

"Oh good, it has been awfully hot lately," she replied, slowly and deliberately, fixing the Professor's collar, careful to run her fingers down the back of his neck in the process.

The Professor stopped breathing and silently prayed for strength of mind. _She's doing this on purpose. She knows what this is doing to me… _he thought, realizing this conjecture was probably true.

The Professor let his mind call back to that day… that day he wished had never happened, but he could never forget.

Things had not been bad between them, but certainly something was changing. The Professor had reasoned through, and at the time, it seemed like a good decision. They had been together for over a year, but it was time to end the relationship.

"Something's wrong," Ginger noted as the Professor walked into her hut.

Even then, he marveled how well she knew him and almost reconsidered what he was about to; now he wished he had.

"Uh… yes actually something is," the Professor replied quietly, avoiding her eyes, knowing he'd see himself in them. _If only he hadn't been so blind._

"Well… ok, then. Let's talk about it."

The Professor ran a hand through his hair nervously; he'd always thought that this would happen the other way around. "Ginger… I think we should stop seeing each other, at least for awhile."

He remembered perfectly how she had been silent with disbelief. For a few seconds the Professor saw into Ginger's true reaction; regret, confusion, vulnerability, unwillingness to believe, and misery. Finally, the actress in Ginger woke up and she masked a face of skeptical cynicism as she questioned, "Are you breaking up with me?"

The Professor nodded solemnly; it seemed much harsher when she said it, like an accusation. "I just think it'd be best for both of us…"

Ginger laughed darkly. "Oh, you'll regret this, my friend. What is it you like to joke of… _Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn_? Well, believe me I'll give you plenty of scorn."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't" he replied, amazed he was acting so calmly when he was shaking inside. The Professor walked outside regretting that hadn't gone better. He heard Ginger follow him, and turned around.

"This is the biggest mistake you'll ever make," Ginger asserted, her voice full of venom, vindictiveness, vehemence, and vengeance.

The Professor felt fear quake through him as he gazed into her eyes one last time to see hurt and antagonism burning deeply within.

A month later, Ginger had been right. The Professor had never been in such a pathetic emotional state. Ginger's voice brought him back to the present.

"I was just wondering if you had seen the Skipper."

"No, I have not," the Professor answered. Even if he had, his answer would have been the same.

Only one day after the Professor and Ginger broke up, the Skipper asked Ginger out on a date and she had accepted. Ever since, the Professor had to endure seeing them together: laughing, smiling, holding hands, hugging, kissing, hugging, kissing, hugging, kissing, and who knew what else…

The sad thing was that the Professor couldn't even be sure if Ginger was acting or really loved the Skipper, the subterfuge so clever and realistic.

How many times had he heard the others talk of the Skipper and Ginger as a couple and the Professor had found hatred boil within himself. The Skipper seemed unaware of the vile feelings the Professor was harboring towards him. Even, so, the Professor was disgusted with himself for these feelings he couldn't control. And it was all his fault… This thought running through his head every time he watched Ginger kiss the Skipper which numbered in high quantity.

"Well, if you see him around… let him know I was looking for him," she smiled a glint in her eyes.

"Yeah… sure," he mumbled. "So, what's it like, being with the Skipper?"

Ginger grinned ostentatiously. "Exhausting."

The Professor tried to discern if she was pulling his leg. He didn't wish to think about it. Either way, he felt the blood drain from his face at this implication something he knew Ginger would be delighted to see.

"You know Professor," Ginger said, almost reading his thoughts, "Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean you need to be so distant."

"I'm not being distant… just not forward," he replied curtly.

"Oh, and I suppose, this is forward…" Ginger mused leaning forward to kiss him.

As the Professor felt her lips touch his, he automatically wrapped his arms around her, afraid she'd stop. Waves and waves of confusion washed over him. Did she still love him, was she sorry, was she going to drop the act of revenge and beg to be back with him? His ego deceived him, he realized, when he felt the Skipper yank the Professor away from Ginger. It had been a trap.

He couldn't hear what the Skipper was yelling at him, couldn't feel the blow the Skipper dealt him, couldn't sense anything except the melancholy pain of that kiss. He was falling into darkness, nothing could help him, he had ruined the rest of his life… There was no point fighting it anymore, he should just let the pain of reality consume him, let the hurt tear him limb from limb until he was nothing. He was sure he would shatter if touched, sure that his heart was sick and dying…

The Professor could see every memory of him and Ginger flash in his mind like a roll of film. Never stopping… always the same suffering experienced every time he reveled in what he'd thrown away.

He ran from the hut with one last, desperate look at the woman he loved in the arms of another man. His nose was bleeding and his thoughts were cloudy. He ran until he got to the lagoon, and started swimming, unsure where he was swimming to. All he knew was that he'd swim until he began to sink, drowning now seemed like a fair alternative to the nightmare he was in. His body turned to lead slowly, but he sank quickly. His lungs were screaming for air but his heart was screaming for freedom. He was traveling in a dark tormenting abyss in the ocean. Wasn't drowning supposed to peaceful, shouldn't he have been dead by now? Was there no escape?

Suddenly, he heard a voice, the sweetest voice in the world, and knew that he'd found his way out. It was a beautiful, melodious, soothing voice calling his name.

Somebody was shaking him gently yet urgently.

"Honey, Honey, Roy wake up," he heard as his mind cleared and he finally could breath.

Roy opened his eyes slowly and found himself in a dimly lit room, but he was no longer underwater. But where was he? Suddenly, an impeccable relief washed over him.

It had just been a dream.

He was lying in bed in California, the cool air washing over his body which was covered in a cold sweat. His wife was with him, still trying to get him to respond.

"Ginger," he whispered weakly, afraid he was still in the nightmare.

"Oh thank goodness you finally woke up!" she sighed, turning on a lamp.

Roy soaked in the sight of Ginger, touching her cheek to make sure she was real.

"Are you ok?" she asked in concern. "You were thrashing around pretty badly."

"Yes, I'm fine now. I just was having a nightmare," he replied. All of which had happened in his dream seemed insignificant and trifling now that it was proved false.

"What was it about?" Ginger asked in concern.

He smiled inwardly, wondering if he should tell her. Roy decided against it. "It doesn't matter, seeing you next to me is comforting enough."

Ginger rolled her eyes with a smile, then wrapped her arms around him. "Have I ever mentioned I love you?" she laughed, resting her head against his chest.

"Yes, but it certainly is nice to hear that again," Roy replied, letting the sound of Ginger's gentle breathing drift him off to a dreamland of much better dreams.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long, guys! Some of you guys might have read this somewhere else a while ago, but I found it on my computer and realized I never posted it here. And, there can never be enough G/P fanfiction out there! Your reviews are greatly appreciated!


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